И'3fг'3fо'3fр'3fь'3f Х'3fо'3fх'3fл'3fо'3fв'3f: CONTENTS

"Why, yes," said Marda West. "Why, it's all arranged."

"The most precious thing in the world," she said to Nurse Ansel, "is sight. I know now. I know what I might have lost."

Nurse Ansel nodded her head in sympathy. "You've got your sight back," she said, "that's the miracle. You won't ever lose it now."

She moved to the door. "I'll slip back to the hostel and get some rest," she said. "Now I know everything is well with you I'll be able to sleep. Is there anything you want before I go?"

"Give me my face-cream and my powder," said the patient, "and the lipstick and the brush and comb."

Nurse Ansel fetched the things from the dressing-table and put them within reach upon the bed. She brought the hand-mirror, too, and the bottle of scent.

Already, thought Marda West, Nurse Ansel fitted in. She saw herself putting flowers in the small guest-room, choosing the right books, fitting a portable wireless in case Nurse Ansel should be bored in the evenings.

"I'll be with you at eight o'clock."

The door closed. Nurse Ansel had gone.

Marda West lifted the hand-mirror and looked into it. Nothing changed in the room, the street noises came from outside, and presently the little maid who had seemed a weasel yesterday came in to dust the room. She said, "Good morning," but the patient did not answer. Perhaps she was tired. The maid dusted, and went her way.

Then Marda West took up the mirror and looked into it once more. No, she had not been mistaken. The eyes that stared back at her were doe's" eyes, weary before sacrifice", and the timid deer's" head was meek, already bowed"

NOTES:

bandage – rrOBH3KR

fit lenses – BCTRBHTb JINH3bI

surgeon – xepypr

endure – nepea

tip-toe – xopїva aa qbmoszax

temporary – apeMeїssiA

dissolve – paccesvacz

in pasture – ea nacv6їїe

on purpose – zapoїHO

in the deception – B MRCKRX

weasel – zracza

sedative – ycrrozoevezasoe

adjust oneself – npecnoco6evsca

trickery – o6MaH

guardedly – ocvopomao

mock – їacncexaTbCB

distressed – paccvpoeHHhIN

carnation – raoapeza

eonspiracy – saroaop

have a showdown – ace o6ї5ICHMTb

trap – aoayxuxa

flushed – BO36ympeavbrA

vulture – rpeQ

too numb – CJINIIIKOM

the plan still held – nzaz ocvaaaїca

scores of them – oseHb MHOI'0

as right as rain – coaepuzeHHO 3pOpOBbIM

deceptive – o6MaHHNBbIN

toad – ma6a

panther – їaHTepa

baboon – 6a6yeH

hyena – rneza

prick – yxozr

hideous – ymaCHBIH

doe – zraїb

sacrifice – mepvsonpїїomevve

deer – oїeїa

bowed – CKJIOHCHHbIA

Comprehension:

1) Why was Marda West in hospital?

2) What was the effect of the blue lenses?

3) Why was the woman frightened?

4) What did she suspect at first?

5) When did she understand that she had been mistaken?

6) Did animal heads have anything to do with their masters characters?

7) Did the new lenses put everything in its place?

The Last Inch by J. Aldridge

At forty you were lucky if you still enjoyed flying after twenty years of it, and you were lucky if you could still feel that artistic pleasure of a beginner when you brought the plane down well.

It was all gone; and he was forty-three and his wife had gone back to Linnean Street, Cambridge, Mass., and was leading the life she liked to lead, taking the streetcar to Harvard Square, shopping at the market, living in her old man's decent old farm house which made a decent life for a decent woman.

He had promised to join her before the summer but he knew he would never do it. He also knew he would never get another flying job at his age, not for his sort of flying, even in Canada.

That left him with an apathetic wife who didn't want him, and a ten-year-old boy who had come too late and was, Ben knew in his heart, not part of either of them: a very lonely boy lost between them, who understood, at ten, that his mother had no interest in him, and that his father was a stranger who couldn't talk to him and was too sharp with him in the rare moments when they were together.

This particular moment was no better than the others. Ben had the boy with him in an Auster bumping violently down the 2,000 feet corridor over the Red Sea coast, waiting for the boy to be airsick.

"If you want to be sick," he said to the boy, "put your head well down on the floor so that you don't make the plane dirty."

"Yes," the boy said miserably.

"Are you afraid?"

"A little," the boy answered: a rather pale, shy and serious voice for a North-American boy. "Can these bumps smash the plane?"

Ben had no way of comforting him, excepting the truth. "Only if the plane has not been looked after and periodically checked."

"Is this..." the boy began, but he was too sick to go on.

"It's all right," his father said irritably. "It's a good enough plane."

The boy had his head down and was beginning to cry quietly.

"Don't cry!" Ben ordered him now. "There's no need to cry. Get your head up, Davy! Get it up!"

"How do you know where the wind is?" the boy asked.

"The waves, the odd cloud, the feel," Ben shouted back.

But he no longer knew what.directed his flying. Without thinking about it he knew to a foot where he would put the plane down. He had to know here, because there were no feet to spare-' on this piece of natural sand, which was impossible to approach in anything but a small plane. It was a hundred miles from the nearest native village. It was dead desert country.

"This is what is important," Ben said. "When you level off it's got to be' six inches. Not one foot, or three feet. Six inches! If it's too high and you come down hard, you'll wreck the plane. If it's too low, you hit a bump and go over. It's the last inch that's important."

Davy nodded. He knew. He had seen an Auster like this one go over at Embaba. The student flying it had been killed.

"See!" his father shouted. "Six inches. When she begins to sink, I ease back the stick. I ease it back. Now!" he said and the plane touched down like a snowflake. The last inch! He cut off the engine instantly and put on the heel brakes4 which stopped them short of the sudden drop into the water by six or seven feet.

The two pilots who had discovered this bay had called it Shark Bay, not for its shape but for its population. It was always well filled with good-sized Red Sea sharks who came into it after the big shoals of herring and mullet which looked for a safe place in here from time to time.

It was sharks Ben was here for; and now that he was here he forgot the boy, except to instruct him how to help unload, how to pack the food bag in wet sand, how to keep the sand wet with buckets of sea water, and to bring the tools and the small things necessary for his aqualung and cameras.

"Does anybody ever come here?" Davy asked him.

Ben was too busy to hear him now, but he shook his head. “Nobody! Nobody could get here, except in a light plane. Bring me the two green bags from the floor”, he said, “and keep your head covered against the sun. I don't want you to get sunstroke”.

It was Davy's last question. He had asked his questions seriously trying in that way to soften his father's hard answers. But he gave up the attempt and simply did as he was told. He watched carefully while his father prepared his aqualung eqvipment and underwater cameras to go into the perfect clear coral water to film sharks.

"Don't go near the water!" his father ordered.

Davy said nothing.

"These sharks," his father warned, "will be glad to take a bite at you,' especially on the surface; so don't even put your feet in."